


ShinRa's Board of Directors

by Thrasirshall



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Fleshing out minor characters, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-19
Updated: 2013-10-19
Packaged: 2017-12-29 20:48:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1009935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thrasirshall/pseuds/Thrasirshall
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The late President ShinRa's board of directors all had their usefulness, Rufus wouldn't deny that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Director of Urban Development

**Author's Note:**

> Set during the original game, and a sort of attempt at building on minor characters. 
> 
> The chapters are in no particular order, but it's set during a week after President ShinRa's murder.   
> For my headcanon, I called him Hohenheim ShinRa.

Rufus was studying a model of Neo Midgar, and Reeve felt his hackles rise.

"You wanted to see me, President ShinRa?"

"Rufus."

Reeve frowned slightly, and Rufus lifted a small tower from the scale model, admiring the detail, before looking at Reeve, "The old man was President ShinRa. I am President Rufus."

Reeve felt a little stunned, and more then annoyed. He would give what Rufus wanted to hear, and then he was going to slap his resignation on the table. Rufus put the model down gently, only to be surprised at Reeve's next words, "Neo-Midgar 's budget for construction is underway."

Rufus gave him an even gaze, "Cancel it."

Reeve blinked, "... Pardon... Sir?"

"Midgar is not even finished, and the old man had torn chunks out of it. I want my city finished, Director Tuesti." Rufus glanced over the model of Neo-Midgar with an unreadable expression, "I'm not interested in a brand new one - which is both financially costly, almost ridiculously so, and based on the whims of a legend."

"You're... Not interested in the Promised Land then?" Reeve was flabbergasted, and tucked his folder back under the crook of his arm. Rufus watched him with curiosity before answering him.

"I'm going to pursue it." the blond rubbed two fingers under his chin thoughtfully, "I'm only curious myself, but otherwise, it's not something I was wholly in favour of when it was first suggested."

Then his steel blue gaze was on Reeve with a glint in them, "Much like how I thoroughly disapproved of the Sector Seven plan."

Reeve gripped his folder like a lifeline, frozen on the spot until he spoke a moment later, "I... Felt it was inappropriate to bring it up."

After all, Hohenheim ShinRa had only died last week. It hadn't helped with Reeve's insomnia, or that he couldn't seem to keep anything down. He'd kept his television off too - not wanting to be reminded of the smoking mass grave that was visible outside of the window. 

Rufus' gaze turned hard, "Dead or alive, it doesn't change what he had done."

Reeve frowned slightly as Rufus continued, "I want Sector Seven rebuilt. Sector One completed, and Sector Eight repaired. Give me figures when you have them."

Reeve only nodded once, and opened his mouth to ask to leave until Rufus' studious gaze stopped him.

"Did you say nothing about Sector Seven at the meeting?" the blond queried. 

The tone was inquisitive, and Reeve wondered what sort of rope he was balancing on. 

Reeve licked his lip, "... I argued that it was... Not the best solution."

"It was fucking stupid, Reeve." Rufus almost snapped, though his annoyance was not at Reeve, "Thousands are dead over a handful. Does that seem even remotely logical to you?"

Reeve shook his head, and he felt like throwing up again, "I wish I could've..."

"Rebuild it, Reeve." Rufus slid his hands into his pockets, a less stoic stance, but his tone was nonetheless not meant to be taken as comfort, " That's all you can do. And in future, if you disagree with any of my choices, say so. I pay you to do your job. I'm not an engineer, you are."

Reeve nodded again, and his shoulder sank slightly in relief, "Yes sir."

"Lastly... I have a proposition for you." Rufus smiled, eyes full of secrets, "Tseng mentioned a pet project of yours..." 

Reeve frowned slightly, but by then, he was caught in his curiosity at what Rufus was planning. 

 

 

By the end of the evening, Reeve tore up his resignation letter, and allowed himself a small smile when he saw Cait Sith on his workbench. 

Reeve picked the automaton up, "I think this is our second chance, don't you agree?"

The cat simply smiled at him.

 


	2. Director of the Space Program

“I took the liberty of organising the parade’s decorations, President Rufus.” Palmer smiled, gesturing to several large papers filled with designs.

Rufus gave him a curious glance before walking towards the large table in the man’s spacious office.

All of the banners were red.

 

Rufus _loathed_ red.

 

“In relation to your father’s death,” Palmer pressed his hands together, confident in his idea despite how still Rufus’ back was to him, “I felt it was _appropriate_ to give some tribute to Hohenheim when he was first inaugurated forty or so years ago. It’s a good way to both mourn him, and celebrate his life at the same time, I’m sure the people will agree.”

 

The young man slid one of the glossy sheets towards himself, reading ‘ **Rufus: NEW AGE President of SHINRA’** stretched artistically across one of the banner designs. ‘ShinRa’ was in small print, the focus solely on Rufus’ name.

 

Rufus half turned to Palmer, his expression unreadable, but Palmer _knew_ he was listening.

 

“The people admired your father, so they need to admire you – the mourning son who bravely takes up his murdered father’s mantle.” Palmer orchestrated dramatically, before he smirked, “They eat that sort of shit up.”

 

Rufus folded his hands behind his back, and appeared more interested. Enlightened, even. For such an unattractive and unassuming individual, Palmer was a lot more then he appeared. Outside the board, the bumbling idiocy was merely a façade. People _told_ him things because they thought he was a moron that got lucky in a cushy job.

And in turn, it was a goldmine of blackmail for him to manipulate information in ShinRa’s favour. 

A wonder then that Palmer kept the ideal of space exploration alive for so long.

 

Rufus couldn’t help but admire that level of deception a little. Palmer was certainly going to be kept anyway – propaganda was a delicate art, even if the word itself was not a pretty one. _Director of the Space Program_ was much nicer, full of dreams and empty promises.

 

“Why the red?” Rufus asked, more nicely then anyone would’ve expected.

 

“ShinRa’s colours.” Palmer explained with a little shrug, “Junon’s city flag is red.” He swept a hand over the long banner, “New age, new blood.”

 

Rufus mulled it over, and Palmer waited patiently. 

 

Indeed, there were some things that would still have his old man’s mark on it, but not for long. Once this farce of a parade was over and the people were placated with their false sense of security, Rufus had every intention of ridding all traces of Hohenheim’s shadow that just _crawled_ all over the tower like ivy. Palmer might even design a new logo for ShinRa itself…

The blond nodded to himself - _all in due time._

 

But for now…

 

“Very appropriate, Director Palmer. I approve of the designs.”

 

“I’ll have them printed straight away, Mr. President.” Palmer bowed slightly, immensely pleased.

 

After all, few people knew Palmer was exceptionally _talented_ at this sort of thing.

 

 


	3. Director of the Science Department

"You don't believe in the Promised Land, then?"

"A legend." Hojo scoffed before giving the blond a crooked smile, "Am I the only one with _any_ sense around here?"  
Rufus' eyes narrowed slightly, "Why then were you so interested in the girl? They called her an Ancient."

Glee crossed the old scientist's face, "A half Cetran."

Of course, Rufus knew all about Aeris. Knew about Tseng's ... 'Mission' to keep an eye on her because she was... Special.   
Rufus had seen her atop of the tower along with that mockery that called themselves AVALANCHE.   
What Tseng saw in a slip of a thing like her was beyond the young man. She was even frailer in person -

Nonetheless, Rufus chided himself on the twinge of jealousy in his mind - he wanted to see what Hojo had to say.   
He'd let the insults slide because Hojo was far more knowledgable of the various projects going on, and Rufus was keen to remain in the professor's good books.   
For now, anyway. 

"Her genetics hold a slightly different variation to our own." Hojo pointed to the ceiling, "Though her mother's was vastly superior. Had she not escaped..."   
The man's sudden cackle unnerved Rufus.   
"You don't seem too upset, Professor." He commented. Hojo smiled, and there was an odd... Fondness on his face, "Oh... Something much better happened, so she was an... Acceptable loss."

"I have a proposition for you, professor." Rufus said, and the man hummed as regarding a curious child.   
"If Sephiroth is alive-"

"Oh, he is, dear President Rufus," Hojo turned his hip slightly. Rufus followed his line of sight for a moment only to see a giant tank, and something, _something_ in him felt a stab of terror until Hojo brought his gaze back to him, "I can assure you of that..."

"Then you'll be willing to help us find him?" Rufus asked carefully, "I know Sephiroth was one of your greatest achievements." 

"Oh he  _is_. The rest of my work is nothing compared." 

"I’m willing to give you his corpse when we do." Rufus offered, making no qualms about exactly what was to be done when Sephiroth _was_ found. Arresting him would just be suicide.

The long stare Hojo gave the blond crept into nearly half a minute, until the man quickly smiled. 

"Your pet is doing well, by the way." 

Surprise crossed Rufus' face, and the professor then gestured for the blond to follow him. 

"She was one of my best bred hounds. President ShinRa gave the Department quite a sum for her." Hojo shuffled down a long hallway, and didn't see the scowl crossing Rufus' face, "Be a shame if my good work was left go to waste..." 

Dark Nation was on a long metal table, various tubes stuck into the still black body, and a white medical blanket over her. She was awake, but drugged. Rufus mentally cursed that ex-SOLDIER  _... Claude? Cloud?_ But, Dark had done what she had been trained to do. 

He went to her and stroked fingers over her clean paw, the other bandaged up. Her yellow eyes were dull, unfocused. 

"When will she be fit for duty again?" Rufus asked, and saw her ears perk up slightly at his voice. He really had no intention of letting her stay in Hojo's care for long, even if the man had saved her life. 

"It will be a week or so." the professor slid his glasses up with a finger, "Whoever harmed her had a weapon like a cleaver." 

"It was an ex-SOLDIER, he called himself." Rufus turned, and Hojo suddenly went still, giving Rufus the first serious gaze he'd seen on the professor.

"A SOLDIER, you say.” Hojo pushed his glasses up, “Did he mention what class?"

"First." Rufus nodded, and the professor hummed, "Which can't be right."

"No…." Hojo shook his head, before glancing up at Rufus more amicably, "I will help you find Sephiroth, and I would like the body, yes. It won’t be easy to defeat him, if I will be honest.”

Rufus made a mental note for the Turks to keep an eye on the scientist, nodding once, “I will provide whatever you need.”

“Oh, of that I have no doubt.” Hojo smiled, “Hohenheim was … just as generous.”

Rufus narrowed his eyes slightly, but said nothing more to the intentional comparison. Giving Dark Nation a gentle stroke on the head, Rufus turned and left the creepy lab with its equally sinister occupant…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think I did Hojo much justice in character development here, to be honest, but I rarely write him. Sorry Hojo fans. 
> 
> He's not someone who'd come across as deliberately nasty, but very subtle in his ways. Rufus is smart in that he doesn't outright trust him the way Hohenheim used to.
> 
> If anything, this chapter is mostly foreshadowing, and how I have Dark Nation still alive.


End file.
